A Mother's Trust

by Dilly Court

  Phoebe rose to her feet. ‘I’m glad you think it’s funny. I must be going now.’

  He caught her by the hand. ‘I’m truly sorry to hear about Annie.’ He stood up, reaching for his top hat. ‘Allow me to walk you home.’

  She said nothing until they were outside in the street and when he offered her his arm she shook her head. ‘No, thank you. I can manage to find my way back to Saffron Hill. I won’t trouble you further.’ She started walking but to her consternation he fell into step beside her.

  ‘You need funds. I saw how you handled what little money you had in your purse. I realise that without Annie you must be struggling.’

  Phoebe stopped, meeting his eyes with a steady gaze. ‘There’s no need to concern yourself. My family and my fiancé will be returning home in a couple of weeks. I have enough to live on, and even if I didn’t I’m perfectly capable of earning an honest living.’

  ‘Your fiancé?’ He seized her left hand, staring at the gold signet ring which she had placed on her middle finger for safe keeping. ‘I see no engagement ring.’

  She snatched her hand free. ‘I don’t see that it’s any business of yours, Rogue Paxman. Gino and I are unofficially engaged and will be married quite soon.’

  ‘He’s a lucky fellow, but if I were him I wouldn’t have gone off and left my woman to fend for herself all winter.’ He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a gold sovereign which he tucked into her reticule before she had a chance to protest. ‘That is a loan to tide you over until your family returns. Gino can repay me then, and you need not feel obliged to me as I’ll charge him interest.’

  Phoebe struggled with the strings on her reticule in an attempt to retrieve the coin and return it to him, but he walked off before she could extricate it from the folds of her hanky. ‘Stop,’ she called, hurrying after him. ‘I don’t want your money.’ She glared at a group of young street arabs who were openly mocking her. ‘Stop, please.’

  He paused, looking over his shoulder. ‘Call it a fee then. I’ll book your services for ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Good day to you, Phoebe.’

  She could hardly break into a run without losing face and the filthy, ragged urchins were crowding round her shouting taunts. Holding her head high, she quickened her pace and hurried homeward. She could not believe that he was serious about attending a séance and she put his request out of her mind as she concentrated on the more important task of feeding her small family. Ivy barely knew how to boil water to make tea, and it transpired that she had rarely eaten anything other than bread and scrape with a morsel of cheese on special occasions. She came from a large impecunious family and her father, an itinerant farm labourer, struggled to provide for his brood of fifteen children. How they managed to live in a one up, one down cob cottage on the outskirts of Brighton was a mystery to Phoebe, but having listened to Ivy talking about her parents and siblings she could understand a little better her natural desire to return to the place she knew and loved. Her common law husband had gone away to sea as soon as he knew that she was in the family way and had not been seen or heard of since. Poor Ivy, Phoebe thought as she rolled out her first attempt at pasta dough, life had dealt her a rotten hand and losing her baby must have been the cruellest blow. She must be more patient with her and make allowances when she refused to go out alone or even venture upstairs to the top floor in the dark unless Phoebe lit her way with a candle. She must not expect her to help in the séances, and she must hope that Ivy’s milk would not dry up until Teddy was old enough to be weaned.

  The pasta was a moderate success, although Phoebe was not sure what her grandmother would have made of her efforts. The vegetable soup was edible, if rather bland, and she wished that she had paid more attention to Nonna’s use of herbs and spices in her cooking. Ivy ate ravenously, as if every mouthful was to be her last, and try as she might Phoebe could not convince her that there would be more to come later. At least Ivy was uncritical and if the soup lacked flavour she did not complain. With the gold sovereign tucked away in Nonna’s housekeeping jar on the mantelshelf, Phoebe was confident that they could keep themselves in food until the family returned. The coin had felt hot in her hand and she hated being beholden to Rogue Paxman, but she did not think for a moment that he would keep his appointment. When Gino came home she would borrow the money from him and repay her debt to the man she wished she had never met. Or at least she wished that her mother had not allowed herself to fall in love with Ned. The two brothers were indivisible in her mind, and she blamed them both for the death of her parents. Quite suddenly she found herself missing Gino. He was the one person who knew and understood her present dilemma. He was kind, honourable and steady; the sort of man who would make an excellent husband and father. When she laid her head on the pillow that night she decided that she would give him his answer on his return. She would do her best to make him a good wife.

  Going about her chores next morning with Teddy clasped in one arm, Phoebe balanced him on her hip while she dusted the heavily carved furniture in the front parlour. He had awakened several times in the night and Ivy had looked pale and exhausted at breakfast, prompting Phoebe to suggest that she ought to go back to bed for an hour or two and catch up on her sleep. She had agreed willingly, but Teddy had other ideas and instead of sleeping in the drawer that had been made into a makeshift crib he howled loudly every time Phoebe attempted to lie him down. She shifted him from one hip to the other, thinking proudly that he had doubled his birth weight and was thriving, despite showing signs of the Paxman temper and their undoubted stubborn streak. She flicked the duster over the pot dogs that glowered at each other from opposite ends of the mantelshelf, and only narrowly missed knocking the spill jar onto the floor when the sound of someone hammering on the front door startled her and awakened Teddy. He had been dropping off to sleep but he began to cry and was inconsolable as she hurried down the narrow hallway.

  She opened the door and instantly realised her mistake as Rogue stared in amazement at the bawling infant. ‘Well now, that’s something I didn’t expect.’

  He stepped over the threshold without waiting to be invited, and taking off his top hat he hung it on the row of pegs behind the door. ‘My appointment,’ he said, eyeing Phoebe with a ghost of a smile. ‘Had you forgotten?’

  ‘Yes. I mean, no. I didn’t think you were serious. Why would you want to contact the other side?’

  ‘Call it curiosity. I’ve sent a few souls that way, although they were villains to the last one and are probably stoking the fires of hell if the truth were told.’ He stroked Teddy’s downy head. ‘He’s a fine little chap. What’s his name?’

  ‘Teddy,’ Phoebe said, cursing the fact that she had not been stricter and made her little brother accept the fact that he should be enjoying his morning nap.

  Paxman took the squalling baby from her arms and as if to spite her, Teddy immediately stopped crying and he opened his eyes wide as he tried to focus on Paxman’s face. She held her breath. They might have been father and son. She hoped that Rogue could not see the likeness. But he was smiling at Teddy and making ridiculous noises that seemed at odds with his reputation as a hardened criminal. Who would have imagined the tough gang leader cooing at a baby? She was tempted to snatch her brother away from him but she restrained herself. She knew what was coming even before Paxman raised his head to give her a questioning glance. ‘Whose child is he?’

  ‘Dolly’s.’ The lie was born of desperation. She could not tell him the truth and she knew that he was too astute to believe her if she said that Teddy was hers. She looked him in the eyes. ‘He’s Dolly’s baby, and I’m looking after him until she’s well enough to take over his care.’

  ‘And where is Dolly? Surely she wouldn’t want to be parted from her child?’

  She was afraid that he had seen through her lies, but she had no alternative now but to carry on with the fiction. ‘She caught – measles. She’s quite poorly and we didn’t want to expose the baby to the disease, so Do
lly stayed in Brighton and I brought him back to London with a wet nurse. He’ll be returned to his mother as soon as she regains her health and strength.’

  ‘Really? Well, that’s quite heroic of you if I may say so.’ He laid the baby gently in her arms. ‘I can see that you’re busy. Perhaps we should put off the séance until another day. I’ll call again when you have more time on your hands.’ He headed for the front door.

  ‘But your money. I have it here. I can give it back to you now.’

  He took his hat from the peg and set it on his head as he opened the front door. ‘Keep it. I’ll hold you to our arrangement some other time.’

  Then he was gone, leaving Phoebe feeling weak at the knees. She glanced at Teddy, shaking her head. ‘I can see you think this is funny, but it’s not. I’m not sure if he believed me, but I hope he did. You are a troublesome boy, Teddy Giamatti. Had you been sleeping he would not have known of your existence. Now see what you’ve done, you naughty baby.’ She tempered her words with a smile and dropped a kiss on his forehead. ‘But now I’ve got another problem. What on earth am I going to tell Nonna and Nonno? If I say you’re Dolly’s child they’ll expect me to send you back to Brighton, and I can’t do that. Cousin Judy wouldn’t want you anyway, and Dolly is never going to be a responsible adult.’

  Teddy opened his mouth, exposing two rows of pink gums, and yawned.

  Phoebe sighed. ‘You don’t know what I’m saying, thank the Lord. But I’m in a terrible dilemma, Teddy, and I can’t see any way out of it.’ She returned to her chore of dusting the front parlour. The family would be arriving home in less than a fortnight and Nonna would be casting a critical eye over everything. Phoebe worked with renewed vigour.

  Two weeks later, almost to the day, the house in Saffron Hill was filled with noise and seemed to grow smaller as Fabio, Lorenzo and Julio clattered into the hallway hefting bundles and battered suitcases that had survived countless sea crossings and railway journeys, ending up in their native village on the backs of hard-worked donkeys. Phoebe had been expecting them but had not known the exact date and time of their arrival, and it was fortunate that this coincided with Teddy’s afternoon nap. Ivy had seized the opportunity to catch up on her sleep leaving Phoebe free to tidy the parlour after the morning session, which had earned her a florin. Her clients had been the well-to-do wife of a city merchant and her unmarried daughters, both extremely plain and fearful of being left on the shelf. They were more concerned about looking in the crystal ball for prospective suitors than with contacting their dear departed grandfather who had left them each a small annuity. They had gone away content in the knowledge that they would not end up as spinsters, but Phoebe had refrained from telling them that she had sensed tears and unhappiness for at least one of them in their marriage. People paid for good news and she rarely admitted to seeing anything else. Sometimes her flashes of intuition were frighteningly real but she refused to believe that she had any genuine psychic powers. If she had inherited her mother’s somewhat doubtful gift in that direction, she reasoned that she would have foreseen the tragedy of Annie’s death in childbirth and the responsibility that had subsequently been thrust upon her.

  Phoebe had still not decided how to explain Teddy’s existence to her family, and she prayed silently for inspiration as her grandfather entered the room, arms outstretched and a huge grin on his bearded face.

  ‘My little princess. I’ve missed you, cara.’

  She walked into his embrace struggling to hold back tears. His clothes were travel-stained and smelt of tobacco and garlic with the added and unmistakeable odour of railway stations, soot and maybe a tang of salt from their sea crossing. She laid her head on his shoulder and felt safe for the first time in months. ‘I’ve missed you too, Nonno.’

  He gave her a hug. ‘I was sorry to hear about Annie,’ he said gently. ‘We never got on well but she was my son’s wife and your mother; for that alone I respected her place in the family. What was it that took her from us? You didn’t say in your letter.’

  She had known that this question would arise sooner or later, but as she struggled to think of a suitable answer she had a temporary reprieve when Maria bustled into the room, taking off her bonnet and shawl and tossing them onto a chair. ‘Don’t bother the poor child with questions now, Fabio. Can’t you see that she is still in mourning for her mother, you stupid fellow?’ She wrested Phoebe from his arms, clasping her to her bosom and almost smothering her. ‘You should have come with us, cara. It was a mistake leaving you here with Annie, God rest her soul. She was always a flighty piece and I daresay it was the drink that did for her in the end. But we won’t talk about it now. Come and help me in the kitchen. The boys are starving, as usual.’

  ‘Let the poor child catch her breath, Maria. You could talk the hind leg off a donkey.’ Fabio chuckled, blowing a kiss to his wife who was visibly bristling with indignation. ‘We’ll speak later, Phoebe. As for me I’m going down to my cellar and check that everything is ready for the new season. With this pleasant spring weather I might even consider starting early. People love my hokey-pokey.’

  In the kitchen, Maria started unpacking a parcel containing the herbs and spices she had brought from Italy. She went round opening cupboards and tut-tutting loudly when she discovered them bare. ‘Didn’t Fabio leave you enough money for food? Haven’t you been carrying on with the séances?’ Her expression softened as she turned to Phoebe and she held out her hand. ‘I’m sorry, cara, I should not have said that. Of course you must have had a difficult time with Annie passing away so suddenly. Where is she buried? I would like to see her grave and say a prayer for her soul.’

  Phoebe hesitated. If she admitted that her mother was buried in Brighton the whole sorry story would come out, but at that moment Julio burst into the kitchen, caught her round the waist and whirled her round. ‘We missed you, little one. Mamma insisted on coming home early so that we could be with you in this sad time.’ He kissed her on both cheeks, squeezing her hands with a sympathetic smile softening his dark eyes. ‘But there is someone who missed you even more than us.’ He jerked his head in the direction of the doorway.

  Phoebe looked round to see Gino hovering on the threshold, looking a little nervous. Without stopping to think, she broke away from her uncle and ran to Gino, throwing her arms around his neck. ‘I’m so glad to see you.’ The words tumbled from her lips and were sincerely meant, but more from relief that someone was here who understood her predicament than from the joy of being reunited with the man she had decided to marry.

  ‘There, you needn’t have worried,’ Julio said before Gino had a chance to catch his breath. ‘I told you she was the faithful sort and would be pining for you.’ He turned to his mother. ‘What’s for supper, Mamma? I’m starving.’

  ‘You always are,’ Maria said fondly. ‘Go away and let me prepare it in peace or you won’t get anything at all, and take Gino and Phoebe with you. I can’t work with people looking on.’

  Blowing her a kiss, Julio left the room calling to Lorenzo to hurry up with the rest of their things.

  Left alone, apart from Maria who was busily sorting out the ingredients for their supper, Gino held Phoebe in his arms, looking deeply into her eyes. ‘I missed you so much, my love, and I was very sorry to hear about your mamma. It must have been very hard for you on your own.’

  She drew away, startled by the ardour of his expression and regretting her impulsive reaction on seeing him again. ‘I’m all right, Gino, but I must talk to you in private.’ She took him by the hand and was about to lead him from the room when Julio returned with Fabio close behind him. She could see by the expressions on their faces that something was wrong and her heart gave an uncomfortable thud against her ribs. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘There’s a baby in the house.’ Julio said, pulling a face. ‘It’s yelling its head off upstairs.’

  Fabio pushed past him. ‘What is the meaning of this, Phoebe?’

  She froze as she looked ov
er his shoulder and saw Ivy coming down the passageway towards them holding a screaming Teddy in her arms. At a loss for words, she tried desperately to think of a plausible explanation, but Teddy’s cries were growing louder and Ivy was cowering against the wall staring at Fabio as if he were the devil incarnate.

  ‘Who is that woman?’ Fabio demanded. ‘What is she doing in my house? And whose baby is that? Answer me, girl.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  IN A MOMENT of panic Phoebe was tempted to lie and tell them that Teddy was Ivy’s child. It would be so easy to fabricate a story casting Ivy as the abandoned wife left to raise her baby as best she could by a faithless husband. It was close to the truth except for one small detail – Teddy. She could not risk the possibility of losing her brother; neither could she place such an unfair burden on Ivy, who had already suffered so much. Phoebe met her grandfather’s stern gaze with a steady look. ‘Ivy is the baby’s wet nurse.’

  Fabio’s bushy eyebrows knotted together in a puzzled frown. ‘Whose child is it then? Are we taking in orphans now?’

  ‘There are homes for such children,’ Maria said, abandoning her preparations for the evening meal to peer over Phoebe’s shoulder. ‘We have enough mouths to feed as it is.’

  Phoebe looked to Gino in desperation but he met her anxious gaze with a helpless gesture, which was not lost on Lorenzo who moved swiftly to his side. ‘Has this anything to do with you, Gino?’

  Julio clenched his fists but Fabio laid a restraining hand on his shoulder. ‘Wait, son. Let Phoebe have her say.’ He fixed her with a steady look. ‘Whose baby is it? The truth now.’

  She could not tell them of her mother’s fall from grace or the true paternity of her tiny half-brother. All eyes were upon her and even Teddy had quietened as if he sensed that something momentous was about to happen. She took a deep breath. ‘He is mine, Nonno.’ She sent a pleading look to Gino. ‘Mine and Gino’s.’ She flinched as her grandfather uttered a sound halfway between a gasp and a growl, adding hastily, ‘But I didn’t tell him about the baby before he left for Italy. I wasn’t certain about my condition then, so I said nothing.’ She bowed her head, unable to bear the disappointment she saw in her grandfather’s eyes.